Plague of Fear

Plague of Fear

Spencer never thought heâd end up like this, in a group of popular kids. He tossed a slightly deflated basketball towards a short white kid. âHey Trash, here comes the ball!â The kid looked up and barely caught the ball. He shuffled towards the hoop. Trash was a nickname for the small but lean kid named James. He tossed his slick blond hair. Spencer hated these cool kids. They called themselves the âKool Kids Klubâ. But since they sorta liked him, he could hang out with them. After all, they were like 20 times cooler than his weird crew of kids. Trashâs sporty shorts showed off his skinny and bare legs. Everything about him was small, defined, and quirky. He looked around vigorously to his other two teammates.
âHeads up!â The ball made a sudden arc towards Spencerâs other partner. Spencer didnât really know what this kidâs name was. Everybody seemed to just call him âdudeâ, or âbrahâ. The only reason why Trash wanted him was his height. At almost seven feet, this kid could get into any basketball team across the state. However, his clumsy and jerky hands made him one of the worst players for his height.
This time around, lunch was about to be over, and it was time for the last point. Dude scuffled around the other players and leapt for the dunk. It was barely a dunk, Spencer thought. He only really had to hop like 5 inches. âYeah! You guys got R-E-K-T!â Spencerâs voice called out menacingly to the other team. â24 to 13! What a pity. Good job guys.â The last part of his quick speech was directed towards his team. After hi-fiving them, he walked slowly towards the building door. The back of his hand wiped his forehead. He made a mental note to get a headband as soon as possible. âCya later guys, I gotta go.â
âYeah cya tomorrow.â Spencer walked the short distance from the double doors to his weird crewâs table.
âHowâs it goinâ, guys?â He performed their classy handshake with each one of his âcrewâ. It was essentially a fistpump, a snap, and a hi-five combined. âAfter school skate park, eh?â Spencer saw a majority of nods in their eccentric group. It was quite a combination, with a Costa Rican kid, a Japanese druggie, a Chinese nerd, an Ozzie, a black kid, and himself. âWe can ride there after 7th. Anyone donât got your board?â Jay shook his head. Jay was the Japanese adopted street orphan. He had lived a hard life until he had met up with his guardians. No one really knew who his birth parents were, but he didnât care. âDang, how about you grab yours and weâll meet at the one at Broadway and 77th, ok? 4:00.â Everyone nodded.

~:~

Chuck looked at his watch. 3:58. In the shiny metal wristwatch, he could see a slight resemblance of his Asian face. He shuddered. Cap hair, nerdy glasses, and a generally shapeless face. Where are they? Chuck thought to himself. He shrugged it off, and began pumping his legs. He glanced up at his skateboard. It was an essential longboard from Polar Skate Co. In his opinion, it was straight up badass. Skulls littered the deck, and the grip tape was the best ever. It even had Fall Out Boy signatures written on the upper deck, his favorite band.
Why not listen to some tunez? He pulled out his iPhone 7SC and started it up. He laughed aloud as he imagined how it would have been in 2016. âOMG, itâs a new iPhone! I gotta git it!â He whispered to himself his best white girl impression. Chuck snickered. Now it was considered ancient, by modern media. He slipped the skullies in his ears. Hell yeah! He thought. Immortals by Fall Out Boy was playing. Chuckâs mind wandered off, with him mouthing the lyrics.
âWhacha listeninâ to?â A quiet voice penetrated Chuckâs peaceful mood. âOh yeah, and what time is it anyways?â
âHey mah man Jose! Fall Out Boy to the max, brah. Wanna listen? Itâs 4:02. Seen anybody else?â
âYou donât have to talk your tongue out, Chuck. Iâm fine, and no I havenât.â
âAh whatever bro. I hope theyâll be here soon or itâll be really awkward.â

~:~

The next day, Spencerâs eyes were playing tricks on him. Iâm not actually seeing this, he thought. It looked real, but he still doubted it. He had one side of his brain for practical decisions, and this side was completely unfooled by his eyes. Helena brought in a small carton of something. Spencer sat up in his chair, confused. Why were they dumping that into water again? His mind wandered off to why he was so tired anyways.
Spencer pops a jump and an old ollie. His board catches a small weed and he tumbles forwards. His chin smashes against his kneepad. CRACK! Spencer tastes blood on the left side of his mouth just as Trash comes casually striding in. He hears Trashâs abnormally loud laugh and winces. âWhat were ya trying to do, kid?â
Spencer knows that âkidâ is a major insult, but he shrugs it off. âI dunno, some tricks on my board, maybe?â
Trash snickers to his friends, Dan and Tucker. âWhaddya think boize, is this kid foolinâ around or what? An ollie? Easy peasy!â
He shows off his expensive and graffiti-covered skateboard with a twist and performs a near flawless backside 360 kickflip. âTry doing that, kid!â
Spencer bites his lip, and without a word slowly walks towards Trash. âI donât want any trouble, now.â
âDid ya hear that, boize! Is he mad or is it just me?â Trash cuts in a dirty rebuke.
âNow, if you get out right now and leave me and my friends alone, nobodyâs gonna get hurt. Okay?â
âYeah ohkaaaay we get it.â More snickers. Spencerâs face turns red and he swings at Trash. Being unprepared, Spencerâs opponentâs head twists to avoid facial damage, but his ear is smashed into his skull. âWhat the hell, man? Ya wanna go, you piece of shit?â
Spencer doesnât reply, but calmly stands his ground. He notices that Dan and Tucker are still there, circling with evil grins. They lick their teeth nerve-wrenchingly. Trash holds out a palm, and his friends stay still.